


The Red in Her Ledger

by kitteekatz69



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Clint Barton, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Clint Feels, Clint saves Natasha, Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Natasha Feels, Natasha Romanov Has Issues, Nick Fury is a dick, Plot, Post Iron Man One, Pre Iron Man 2, What Happened in Budapest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:48:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitteekatz69/pseuds/kitteekatz69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This is like Budapest all over again!"<br/>"You and I remember Budapest very differently."<br/>Assigned by Nick Fury to go and dispose of Stark industry weapons that were left over from Obadiah Stane's under the table dealings with terrorists. He is supposed to work with the Black Widow and then kill her when the mission is complete. Natasha reveals things in her past, and Clint makes a different call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Clintasha Fanfiction. I really hope you guys like it :)

_“This is like Budapest all over again!”_

_“You and I remember Budapest very differently.”_

 

Clint Barton headed towards Director Fury’s office, ready to receive his next assignment. He had gotten back from Iraq just a few days earlier. He was helping to intercept a shipment of Stark Industries missiles that were still being transported after Obadiah Stane was found out. He opened the door silently and strode into the dimly lit room. Fury met him with no greeting. He was straight to the point.

“Hawkeye,” Fury addressed him, his voice gruff, “This mission is different. You will be intercepting another shipment of Stark Industry weapons. They are being transported from Germany through Hungary, and eventually to Iraq.”

“How is that different from what I have been doing?” Clint asked confused.

“You will only be working with one other person on this assignment. Shield has recently come into contact with the Black Widow. She agreed to help us intercept the shipment. She has inside information that we don’t. After you complete the mission, I want to you to kill her. She is a threat to Shield intelligence.” Fury handed him a plane ticket. Clint looked down at the ticket. It said Budapest, Hungary. “Your flight leaves in less than an hour. I suggest you get your things and get going, agent.”

                Clint left the room, closing the door behind him. The Black Widow was a notorious freelance assassin. Her true identity was known only to her. He went to his assigned room within Shield Headquarters. The room was devoid of any personal items save for his weapons, and some clothes. The room had a single window, white walls, and a black metal-framed bed with gray sheets. Clint quickly gathered up his things and put them into a duffle bag. His bow and his quiver were slung over his back. He set off for Shield’s airport to take a private jet to Budapest.

                                                                                                ***

                Clint arrived at midnight. He exited the plane and found a beautiful woman standing in a tight, leather body suit waiting for him. She had deep red, curly hair that sat just past her shoulders. Her face was expressionless and she walked up to meet him. Clint squinted for a second, wondering if this was the deadly assassin or just another shield agent sent to meet him. “So, who are you?” Clint questioned. She simply turned around, moved her hair out of the way, and revealed a red hourglass embroidered on her jacket. “The mysterious Black Widow, I see.” She shot him a glare.

“Shush. It is not safe to talk here. There could be people listening. Follow me. I’ll take us somewhere that we can talk.” She motioned for him to follow her. They walked into a parking garage. They walked over to a shiny, black Ferrari. Clint whistled in admiration. “Nice wheels.” Black Widow just looked at him, but Clint swore he could see a hint of a smile.  Clint put his things in the trunk and got into the passenger side. Black Widow started the car and they drove quickly out of the garage. They drove down the narrow streets, past the city limits to a tiny abandoned looking factory.

                Both assassins stepped out of the car and went inside. The female assassin flipped on the lights. The flickering lights revealed two beds, two sleeping bags, a mini fridge, and a microwave. “Home, sweet home. Leave your stuff anywhere. Get some rest. We have work to do tomorrow,” she said, opening the mini fridge to pull out a bottle of water. Clint dropped his things on the ground next to his cot. He put his bow and quiver underneath the cot for easy access. “Is there a name that I can call you?”

“I will not share my true identity with you. That information is classified. However, I am partial to the name Natalie.”

“You can just call me Hawkeye.”

Natalie turned out the lights and they both climbed into their sleeping bags. Clint was listening for her, wondering if she might try to kill him in his sleep. He wouldn’t put it past her. They were both wary of each other and neither one went all the way to sleep that night.

                                                                                                ***

                Natalie and Clint were both awake before the sun had even come up over the horizon. The morning was chilly in the factory with no heating. Clint sat up in his cot and stretched before reaching under his cot to grab his bow and quiver. Natalie watched him with curiosity, her hand subconsciously reaching for the gun at her hip. Clint simply took out a stone and began to sharpen the tips of his arrows, a regular morning ritual for him. He slung his quiver over his shoulder and did the same with his bow. Looking over at Natalie he asked, “So, where do we begin?”

“I have a plan for tonight _,_ ” she began, “There is a fancy party tonight in the city. Some of the people who I suspect to be supporting the shipments of Stark’s weapons should be there.”

“How are we supposed to get in? It sounds like an invitation only event,” Clint asked, eager to hear what she had to say. He particularly enjoyed going undercover and sneaking around.

“I have this,” she said, passing him an invitation to the party. “You’re going to be my plus one. I’m going to pose as your wife. We will mingle, act cute, and discover information about our potential targets.”

“Where did you get that?” Clint asked intrigued.

“I stole it,” she said, nonchalantly with a shrug. “Our cover names are Anastasia and Lars Venaco.”

 “Well, _Anastasia,_ what will we be wearing?” Clint asked suggestively.

Natalie walked over to her cot and pulled out a bag. From the bag, she drew out a scarlet red, strapless dress with a slit up the leg that reached almost all the way to the top of her thigh. From another bag she pulled out a black tuxedo with a red cummerbund and bowtie. She handed him the tuxedo and told him to go try it on.

                Clint walked out of the bathroom and looked in the broken mirror next to the door. “Damn. I look good,” he said cockily.

“ _Dashing,”_ Natalie said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. “You aren’t going to be allowed to have that there bow and arrows. You do know how to fire a gun, don’t you?”

“Of course I know how to fire a gun. I just like my bow better.”

                Natalie walked over and handed him a gun with a silencer attached to it.  Clint took it and set it on his bed before going back into the bathroom to change into his regular get up. Natalie handed him a bagel and he accepted it cautiously. He sniffed it and eyed it suspiciously. Natalie looked at him with a look that could kill. “I didn’t poison it. It’s a bagel. Besides, if I killed you, I wouldn’t get any payment.” Clint took a bite and swallowed. It was a bit stale, but still good.

“What all do you know about the weapons smuggling?” Clint asked, part of his job was to find out as much as he possibly could.

“The person in charge of this shipment is named Zultan Renkas. He’s been in the business for years and is making a fortune off of smuggling Stark weapons. Since Stark has stopped the manufacturing of the weapons, this is going to be his biggest and final deal.”

“Do you know when or where it is going to take place? That’s not a whole lot to go on.”

“That’s what we are going to find out tonight at the party,” she said smugly.

                                                                                                ***

                The day dragged on slowly until it was time to get ready for the party. Clint went into the bathroom and put on his tuxedo. He combed his hair to the side and gelled it in place. When he walked out of the bathroom, Natalie was there in her scarlet red dress. When Clint saw her, he gawked, eyes wide. “You look-“

“Don’t say anything, Hawkeye, and don’t look at me like that. I can kill you fifteen different ways with my bare hands. If you try anything, I won’t hesitate to test one out on you.”

                Clint looked at the ground and coughed. “Right, then. We should get going. We wouldn’t want to be late, _Anastasia._ ”

 

                Natalie handed the keys of the Ferrari to Clint so that he could drive. They both got in the car and Clint started it up. He revved the engine and they sped off back into the city. Natalie had a gun and a knife hidden oh her person. Clint had a gun holstered within his jacket, and a knife on his ankle. Natalie handed him an earpiece to stay in touch with her whilst they mingled with the guests. “If we get separated, rendezvous at the diner down the street. Then we will go from there, all right?” Clint suggested.

“Good idea. Let’s go.”

                Clint parked the car and stepped out. He then walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for Natalie. He took her hand and helped her out of the car. They walked to the entrance, his arm around her waist.

“Names please,” said the man at the door.

“Anastasia and Lars Venaco,” Clint told the man.

“Go right in. You have a lovely wife,” the man commented.

“I know I do,” Clint said as he kissed her on the cheek. Clint turned and whispered to Natasha, “Just trying to put on a good show. Please don’t murder me in my sleep later.”

Natalie smiled, the first time Clint had seen her do so since arriving in Budapest. They found a table and Clint pulled out her chair for her and she took a seat. “I’m going to go make some friends. By that I mean I am going to go see what I can find out from those sketchy looking guys over by the bar. Use that feminine charm of yours to figure out something as well,” Clint said with a smirk.

“Oh believe me, I definitely will,” she said with a devilish grin.

                Clint wandered over to the men standing near the bar. “I’ll have a glass of champagne please,” Clint said to the bartender. “Did you hear about the Stark Industries disaster in America? I read in the paper that he went to Iraq and blew up a settlement that had stolen his weapons.” Clint said to one of the men.

“I did hear of it, yes. Pity. He could have made a lot of money by dealing weapons to the Ten Rings under the table,” the man replied, scowling.

“It is admirable though,” Clint commented, “what he is doing, I mean. Not many people would have the courage to go back to the place where they were held captive for three months.”

“He is blowing the place up though,” the man said with a chuckle.

                Clint decided to stay nearby these men for a while. They seemed like they supported the under-the-table distribution of Stark Industry technology and weapons. He watched Natasha from across the room. She was chatting with a man about the recent events involving the Ten Rings. The man bought her a martini. Clint stares off into space for a minute, half listening to what the men from the bar were talking about. He heard the name Zultan Renkas and his head popped up.

                He was only able to catch bits and pieces of information. He couldn’t get any closer to the men without arousing suspicion.

“…warehouse on the outskirts of town…11:00…30 tons…”

                The men split up to go and enjoy the rest of the party. Clint had become so absorbed with the task of listening for information that he wasn’t listening for Natalie.

“Nat, you still there?” He said quietly into his earpiece. There was no reply.

He looked up and she was not sitting at their table any longer. Clint glanced around the room, and she was not there. Clint began to get worried. _“Where could she be?”_ Clint was actually beginning to grow fond of the spy, despite the fact that he was sent to Budapest to kill her.

                He walked over to the table where they had been sitting and found that her drink was only half gone, and it bubbled slightly. Clint lifted up the glass and sniffed it. She had been drugged. Clint’s mind began to race. He decided that he needed to go and find her. He snuck down the hall away from the party. He silently opened all the doors in the hallways he travelled down.

                There was only one door left. He cautiously opened it and she was there with a man. She was unconscious and the man was getting ready to have his way with her. Her dress had been removed. His pants were already around his ankles. Clint suddenly grew very angry.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Clint growled.

                The man whirled around to look at who had intruded on his violation of this woman. He pulled his pants back up and started to reach into his jacket. Clint didn’t wait to see what he was doing. He drew his silenced pistol and shot the unknown man in the head. He rushed over to Natalie and checked her vitals. She was okay. He put her dress back on her and picked her up bridal style. He carried her out of the room. When questioned as to why his wife was unconscious he simply said, “She had a little too much to drink. It’s time for us to go home. It was a lovely party. Thank you for inviting us.”

                Clint exited swiftly. Carefully he placed Natalie into the passenger seat of the car and buckled her in. He drove away quickly but once he was away from the party he slowed down. Clint was furious that someone would try to have their way with Natalie. He gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckled turned white. A stir in the seat next to him startled him back to reality. They were almost to the factory now. He pulled up in front and stopped the car.

“Wher ‘m I?” She slurred.

“We just pulled up to the factory. Somebody drugged you at the party. I’ll explain more when we get inside,” Clint answered.

                When she attempted to get out of the car, she stumbled and fell. Clint rushed over to her and picked her up again. She tried to protest, but she lacked the strength and the willpower. He carried her inside and gently put her down on her cot. He didn’t want to help her get out of the dress for fear that when she came to, she would kill him.

                 She was quickly waking up. She sat up on her cot and put a hand to her head. She groaned in pain. Clint opened the fridge and took a bottle of water out along with some ibuprofen. He handed it to her and she didn’t take it. She just held them in her hand. She uncapped the water and took a sip. She slowly looked up at Clint.

“What happened at that party? Why was I drugged?” She asked, openly frightened.

“A man at the party decided that he was going to have his way with you,” Clint said, pausing every few words.

“You mean..?” She looked down at herself.

“Yeah. That.”

“Did he..?”

“No. I found you without your dress on, and he was getting ready to. I took care of it. I put your dress back on you and carried you out to the car,” Clint said softly.

“What do you mean ‘you took care of it’?” She asked, “What did you do to him?”

“I decided that the punishment should fit the crime. I shot him in the face and left him there, dead on the floor.”

Natalie looked up at him, stunned into to silence. They sat that way for what seemed like an hour before she looked up at him. “Thank you,” she said softly, and tear running down her cheek. Clint stood up, walked over to her and sat down next to her. The tears were beginning to pour down her face. She didn’t usually show emotion, but she felt violated. Clint tentatively put his hand on her face and wiped away a tear with his thumb.

“Everything is fine. I promise,” he attempted to reassure her.

“This isn’t the first time that this has happened,” she whispered.

                The words she spoke angered Clint. He didn’t know why he was beginning to get protective of her. All he could see was red. He took a deep breath to calm down. “So long as I am around, it won’t happen again.” Clint didn’t realize what he said until after he had said it. He couldn’t grow attached to this woman. His job was to kill her after she was no longer of use.

“No one has ever said something like that to me,” Natalie smiled slightly. “I think that you have earned the right to know my actual name. However, if you tell anyone, I will find you. And I will kill you,” she threated. “My name is Natasha Romanoff. I’m from Russia.”

“My name is Clint Barton. The same to you if you tell anyone.”

                Clint returned to his cot after Natasha had stopped crying. He turned away as she changed into a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. They both climbed into their sleeping bags and went to bed. Although they were still wary of each other, they were both able to sleep soundly that night.

                                                                                                ***

 


	2. Chapter 2

Clint woke up first and quietly stalked over to the fridge, careful not to wake up Natasha. He pulled out a carton of milk and found a box of generic brand Cheerios in the cupboard. He poured himself a bowl and sat down at the table. He ate slowly, still thinking about last night. Natasha had decided to trust him enough to reveal her true name, and he had saved her from a man who sought to violate her in unspeakable ways.

                Natasha sat up in her bed, and looked around the room. Clint turned around to see that she was awake and gave her a small smile, which she did not return. Clint poured a second bowl of cereal and brought it over to her. She accepted it, but did not finish it. “How did you sleep?” Clint asked.

“I’ve slept better, and thanks for last night,” she replied, her mind revisiting the night before as well.

“Don’t mention it,” Clint responded.

“Did you find out anything useful?” Natasha said, returning her mind to the mission at hand.

“I heard bits and pieces of a conversation that may have to do with a shipment. I couldn’t get close enough to hear the whole thing without arousing suspicion. Something about a warehouse, 11:00, and 30 tons of something,” Clint informed, recalling what he had heard.

“Well, we can assume that 30 tons is 30 tons of Stark weaponry. I think it is a safe bet that the weapons are being transported from multiple warehouses to a bigger one. There aren’t very many large warehouses in this city,” Natasha concluded.

“We should check out warehouses that could be candidates for storage then.”

                Clint and Natasha both dressed in their regular uniforms. Clint noted that Natasha carried three knives, two guns, and a metal wire. Clint slung his quiver and his bow onto his back then headed for the car. He allowed Natasha to drive since she knew where all of the warehouses in town were. They drove in silence until they reached their destination. They parked the car down the road from the first warehouse.

“It will be faster if we split up, you take the one a few blocks down the road, I’ll take this one,” Natasha directed. “Meet back at the car in fifteen minutes.”

                “Why can’t I have the close one?” Clint complained. Natasha looked unamused and pointed for him to go. “Okay, sheesh, I was just joking.” Clint began walking down the street towards his assigned warehouse. It was still dark outside when they had left the factory. When he got to the warehouse, he peered inside one of the windows. It was filled with workers who were moving boxes. He couldn’t see what the boxes were filled with. Clint scaled up the side of the brick building and crept in through a broken window. He crouched in a dark corner which overlooked the entire warehouse.

“Work faster!” He heard a man shout, “These car parts aren’t going to load themselves!” Upon closer inspection, Clint saw that the only things going into the boxes were metal scraps and car parts. He climbed out of the broken window and jumped to the ground, rolling as he landed. He heard shots fire in the distance. His mind filled with dread. _“Natasha,”_ he thought. Clint took off down the street, running as fast as his legs would carry him. He didn’t want to just barge into the building; that would cause further chaos. He went around back to look for another entrance.

                In the back of the building there was a single door leading inside. Clint reached out to open it when he heard glass break from above him. His head whipped around to see that Natasha had jumped out the third story window. Everything moved in slow motion as Clint ran beneath her, instincts prompting him to catch her. He caught her, as she landed. Her weight combined with the momentum of the fall was too much and they both fell to the ground as a pile of tangled limbs.

                Natasha stood up first and wiped away blood that was oozing into her eye from a cut on her forehead. She let out a torrent of Russian curses as she winced, the cut stinging. Clint rose and moaned in pain as he did so. They both took a moment to catch their breaths before racing down the street toward the car. Clint got in the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. Putting the keys in the ignition, he started the car. Natasha got in the passenger side and they sped off, leaving a trail of dust behind them.

“What the hell happened back there?” Clint said, a little too loudly, adrenaline still pumping through his system.

“They caught me breaking into their filing cabinet. They were loading Stark weapons into a truck and I decided to investigate further. I killed two of them, but there were too many. They blocked all the exits, so I had to jump. It was a choice between breaking a leg, and dying,” she narrated.

“Be careful next time, these people are dangerous, Nat,” Clint said.

“Don’t call me that,” she glared at him, “I know they’re dangerous. They tried to kill me.”

“Sorry,” Clint said, much quieter. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he added, almost to himself.”

“No, I should be sorry. If it wasn’t for you, I would be seriously injured, now I just have a cut and a headache. Thank you, Clint.”

“No problem,” he said, voice pained.

“This is twice now, that you’ve come to my rescue. Why?”

                Clint was at a loss for words. He didn’t know why he kept helping save the woman whom he was supposed to kill. If she died while on this mission, he could easily finish it by himself. He thought for a moment, unable to come up with a good explanation.

“I…don’t know,” he said, brow knitting together. “Does this make us friends?”

“Hmm,” she said, thoughtfully, “you’ve saved my ass twice now, and put yourself in harm’s way for me by doing it, so yeah. I think that makes us friends,” she decided. “I’ve never had a friend,” she said quietly enough that Clint wouldn’t hear.

                Clint smiled, satisfied. _“Son of a bitch. How am I going to kill her?” he thought._ Dread filled his heart and he found it hard to breathe. He pulled over to the side of the road so they could both rest for a minute. The day was far from over, and work needed to be done. He looked over at Natasha who was, again, wiping blood out of her eye. He reached down to one of the pockets on his cargo pants and pulled out a tiny first aid kit which contained alcohol wipes, gauss, medical tape, and adhesive strips.

“Let me have a look at that,” Clint said, motioning towards the heavily bleeding cut on her forehead.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” she said. “I’ve had worse.”

“God, you’re stubborn, aren’t you?” He said. He wasn’t going to allow her to argue. He took out an alcohol wipe, gauss and an adhesive strip. “Don’t break my hand for this.”

“Wait, why would I break your-“

She was cut off buy Clint placing his hand on the side of her face. He tilted her head so that he could see. She looked him in the eyes, gaze softened by his act of kindness towards her. He used the gauss to staunch the bleeding. After it stopped, he dabbed the gash with the alcohol wipe. She winced, but didn’t protest any longer. He put an adhesive strip over the cut to hold it closed. Without waiting for a response, Clint started the car up again and drove to the next warehouse.

“We’re doing this one together.” Clint said, leaving no room for argument. Once again, they parked the car down the street. It was daylight now. Not wanting to be seen they snuck between buildings until they came close to the correct address. There were only two entrances, both of which were teeming with large men loading boxes into armored, black vans. 

“I’ve got this,” Clint said, docking an arrow. He let loose the arrow which was carried by the wind and hit the building, attaching itself and then turning on a green light. The shaft of the arrow disintegrated.

Natasha scoffed. “You call yourself an archer? That was a horrible shot.”

Clint smiled and pulled a small device from his pocket. He flicked the switch on and voices were transmitted over the speaker. “I wasn’t aiming to kill anyone. The tip of that arrow had a microphone inside. Now we can hear everything they are saying,” he explained, smugly. “I aimed it so the wind would carry it to where I wanted.” Natasha looked thoroughly impressed.

“ _Zultan is driving me crazy. He can’t honestly expect us to be able to load and send off this many trucks in a week.”_ The voice over the speaker said.

“Zultan? Isn’t that our guy?” Clint asked.

“Sure is. Got any ideas for how we can get into this place?”

“Fight our way in and blow it up? My mission is to dispose of the weapons any way that I see fit. Stark wants them blown up if I have the opportunity.”

                Natasha nodded at him as she walked out from their hiding spot. She walked up to a man with a box in his hands. He looked at her quizzically, not knowing what to do. She put her hands on either side of his head and broke his neck. Men pulled out their guns and tried to shoot at her. Clint docked an arrow and fired at them with deadly accuracy. They went inside the warehouse.

                Everything was absolute chaos. People were shooting at them from all over. Natasha rushed up to a man who was coming at her with a knife, and jumped up. She wrapped her thighs around his neck and twisted violently, knocking him to the ground and breaking his neck at the same time. She drew two pistols and killed three more men. Meanwhile, Clint was fighting two men at one time, his bow just as deadly in close-quarters combat as it was from afar. He twisted and turned, knocking his enemies in the face with is bow, and using the string to strangle them.

                Someone threw a grenade and Clint caught it. He threw it back, blowing up crates filled with guns. Natasha grabbed the wire from within her pocket. She jumped on a fleeing man’s back and strangled him. He choked out a yell before falling to the ground. A man roared as he ran up behind Natasha and tried to choke her. She kicked backwards, hitting him hard in the shins, causing him to cry out in pain and release his grasp on her. She turned around and knocked her head into his. He stumbled back dazed, and she shot him in the head with her pistol.

Natasha looked over and saw a man aiming at throwing knife at Clint’s heart. “Clint! Watch out,” yelled Natasha, knocking him to the ground. As they fell, a dagger whizzed past, slicing Natasha’s arm open. The dagger would have killed the male assassin. From the ground, Clint fired an arrow, killing the last man standing. There was a loud beeping as an explosive planted on one of the main supporting pillars of the building exploded. Someone must have triggered an emergency detonation before they went down.

Clint looked at Natasha with wide eyes. “We’ve got to get out of here!” He yelled as the pillar collapsed. The building began to crumble and fall down around them. They leapt up and ran for the side exit. Fire licked at their feet as they ran through the now burning building. They ran from the building and out into the street. The building imploded as soon as they were down the street. They got into the car and started driving back towards the factory.

They both breathed heavy sighs of relief as they got into the car. They looked at one another and laughed, each of them having just survived a near death experience. Pulling up to the factory, Clint reached for his phone. “I need to call Fury. He will want to know about what happened today.” Clint dialed the number and waited while the phone rang. He walked inside as he did so.

_“I hope you have good news for me Barton. Stark is getting impatient,”_ Fury said over the phone.

“I do, sir. The Black Widow and I have blown up one of the three warehouses where they have been storing, and preparing to ship, Stark’s weapons.”

“ _Good, what information do you have about her? Anything useful?”_

                Clint hesitated a moment before answering. “No sir. She hasn’t told me anything.”

“ _I didn’t think you would. I’ll inform Stark of your small success. Hopefully it will get the bastard to leave me alone for a few more days.”_

                The phone clicked, signaling the end of the call. Natasha looked over at him. She had heard Fury’s end of the conversation. “Thank you,” she said, “For not telling him anything about me.”

“No, problem. What Fury doesn’t know, in this case, won’t hurt him.”

                Clint looked down at her arm. The dagger had left a deep cut, it sliced right through her leather cat suit. Her armor was caked with thick, dark blood. Clint retrieved his larger first aid kit and motioned for her to sit at the table. Clint wiped the blood that had dried around the wound away with a warm, damp cloth.

“This is going to sting. I’m sorry,” he warned her. He dipped the cloth in alcohol and sterilized the gash. She breathed in sharply and tensed up as Clint stitched up the wound. He wrapped it in clean, white bandages and got up to splash his face with cold water.

“Why did you contact Fury about this mission?” Clint asked, suddenly curious. “This is so much more dangerous than what you usually do.”

                Natasha sighed. She thought for a second before deciding to share the truth. He was right. She never did stuff like this. She was a spy. She usually just found out secrets, and stole information for whoever had the money to pay for her skills.

“To be honest, there is red in my ledger. I did something very bad, and I’m turning over a new leaf.”

Clint looked at her confused.

“I have a particular set of skills. I’ve never cared who I use them for, or on,” she continued. “Someone paid me to light a hospital on fire. I killed so many people, most of them didn’t deserve to die,” she said with a shudder. “I decided that I want to wipe out the red. I want to do something good for a change. So when I heard about the Stark Industries situation, I contacted Fury.”

Clint looked at her, astonished at what she had just shared with him. He walked over to her and sat down. He rested his hand on her back and allowed her to continue.

“Last April, I worked with someone who betrayed me. He wanted me to torture a woman in front of her children in exchange for my life. When I refused, he tortured me instead. He did things to me, Clint. Bad things. It lasted for days, and I almost died. I don’t remember how I escaped. I just woke up in an alley, coated in blood that wasn’t mine,” she continued, a tear rolling down her cheek. Her voice was shaky as she concluded her story.

                Clint put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Nat, I’m so sorry. I won’t ever let anything like that happen to you ever again. And your past doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that you are trying to help people now. Before I went to work for SHIELD, I committed crimes far worse than the ones you just shared with me.” He reached up and wiped the tears off of her face. He decided then and there that he wasn’t going to kill her. He couldn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha had unintentionally fallen asleep in his arms that night. He had stroked her hair with a steady but gentle hand until she fell asleep. Her hair felt like silk, and it seemed to glow faintly as the pale moonlight hit it through the window. Clint breathed in the cool air as he sat there with Natasha asleep in his arms. She felt small in his arms. She shivered when a gust of cold air came through the window and Clint pulled a blanket over the both of them with his free hand. The steady rise and fall of her chest was comforting, and the quiet sound of her breathing eventually lulled him into a blissful sleep.

                Clint woke with a start when she had begun to stir in his arms. He desperately wished that he could have held her in his arms forever. Natasha turned and looked up at him, blinking the sleep from her tired eyes. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, the air was hot on Clint’s skin. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile. She blinked slowly, and returned the smile. Clint sighed, as much as he wanted this moment to last forever, they still had work to do. She sat up, and stretched. Clint shivered as her heat left him.

“Tasha?” He ventured cautiously, “Are you okay?” His brow furrowed together.

“I’m perfect,” she said looking back at him. There was something in her voice that hinted at something more, but he decided to just leave it at that. He looked at her carefully, inspecting. Her hair fell perfectly on her shoulders, and her eyes were softer than they were before. She trusted him, and he trusted her back. Clint watched as she moved her hand tentatively towards his. She gave it a small squeeze before getting up from the cot that they had shared. The frame creaked as she stood.

                Clint sat up and stretched. His arm felt stiff from leaving it in the same position all night. He ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a yawn. Even after years of working for SHIELD, he was still not a morning person. Clint rose from his place on the cot and walked over to the fridge. He opened it and pulled out a bottle of water. The water was icy, refreshing and rejuvenating as it ran down his throat. He crunched the bottle in his fist when he finished and threw it in the garbage from across the room.

“Score,” he said quietly to himself. Natasha chuckled.

“So what is on the agenda for today?” She asked.

“That first warehouse, the one where you had to jump out of the window, needs to be checked out. If they are still in there, we light the bastards up, and if they aren’t then that means there is a third warehouse,” Clint said.

                Natasha sighed. “I’m not keen on the idea of going back in there.”

“I’ll be there this time. It will be a piece of cake,” he said, only half believing his own words.

“Fine. When do we leave?” She asked coolly.

“Whenever you are ready,” Clint replied. He walked over to his cot and pulled out his quiver. He began screwing on new arrow tips onto arrow shafts. The new tips had explosives in them. Half of his arrows would be explosive and the other half would be regular arrows.

                Natasha slipped into a clean cat suit. The leather clung to her body, exaggerating all of the curves on her body. She clipped two pistols to the holsters at her hips and stuck a dagger in her boot. She put a belt around her waist that was filled with an assortment of weapons. Clint recognized the electrical disks and mace, and there were various others that he had never seen her use.

“You’re really packing the heat today,” Clint said, wondering why she had decided to carry so many more weapons today.

“I’m not going in there unprepared today,” she said with a devilish grin on her face. She walked over to her cot and pulled out one of the many boxes that sat hidden underneath. “In fact, I probably won’t be going in there at all,” she said as she undid the clasps that fastened the box shut. She pulled out a military grade bolt-action sniper rifle with a silencer on it. It was painted almost entirely black. On the side it had a red hourglass, and more tally marks than Clint could count without closer inspection of the weapon.

                Clint whistled in admiration. “So you can take the rooftop next to the building, and I will go in by myself?” Clint asked nervously.

“Don’t worry. It will be a piece of cake. I never miss,” she said running a hand over the rifle.

“If you shoot me, I will haunt you,” Clint said.

“I won’t,” Natasha assured.

                Clint put his bow on his back, the string running over the center of his chest. His quiver sat the same way. His bow was almost always the only weapon that he every carried. He went over to their car and put his bow in the back seat, and Natasha did likewise with her gun. Clint grabbed the keys off the rack by the door and got into the driver’s seat of the car. Natasha got in the passenger side and slammed the door shut.

                Clint drove down the winding roads that let towards the first compound of warehouses that they had visited. Clint parked the car, which was now covered in dust, down the street. The first warehouse was still bustling with activity, thought there were not as many guns as there were before. Natasha stepped out of the car and closed her door quietly. She opened the back door of the car and picked up her rifle, and slung it across her back. Clint got out of the car at the same time she did and did the same with his bow.

                Clint watched Natasha as she ran to the building next to the warehouse and scaled up to the roof using a drain pipe that looked as though it was going to fall off of the building. She climbed with grace and ease, and moved silently. She had clearly done this many times before. On the roof she set up her gun and laid in prone position. She looked carefully through the scope and made sure that she could see almost all angles inside of the building. She licked the tip of her finger and held it up to check the wind speed before giving Clint a thumbs up.

                Clint ran over to the side of the building and snuck in through the front door. Large, brown crates were being loaded in the back of the building and no one was paying any mind to the front door. Clearly these people thought that they were alone. He crouched down in the shadows and docked an arrow. He let it fly with deadly accuracy, hitting one of the men who was helping carry a crate to the back door. He dropped the crate and stumbled backwards. The other men looked around to see where the arrow had come from. Clint was already on the move, and fired another arrow, hitting another one of his targets.

                The rest of the men spotted him and drew their guns. Clint ducked and rolled to the side, knelt, and fired another arrow which exploded once it made contact with its intended target. The explosion killed two people and left another two dazed. Clint heard the sound of breaking glass and a split second later one of the men that was rushing him fell back, a hole in his skull. Clint rushed forward with renewed confidence. He ran up to one of the dazed men. He put his hand on the back of the man’s head and pushed it down as he brought his knee up, knocking the man in the face, and causing him to fall to the ground.

                Someone shot at Clint, and the bullet grazed his arm, slicing open the leather on his jacket. A moment later, the man fell to the ground, bleeding from his chest. Clint spun around and hit an attacker in the face with his bow. He pulled out an arrow from his quiver and stabbed him with it. He retrieved the arrow and fired it at a runner. Someone grabbed him from behind and put him in a head lock. Clint gasped for hair until the attacker’s arms went slack and he fell off his back. Natasha had shot that one too. Clint ran up behind the last man standing and wrapped his bow string around his neck. He pulled back and let the curve of his bow smack into the back of the man’s head. He picked up his bow and ran outside.

                He fired a volley of exploding arrows into the building, which hit all of the main supporting beams. He fired another at the truck which was being loaded with weapons. It exploded in a brilliant blur of colors. A black plume of smoke could be seen rising from the building. Clint looked up at Natasha who was still perched at the top of the building next door. He nodded and started to walk back to the car. He watched as she stood, picked up her rifle and ran to the edge of the building. She jumped from the roof and summersaulted as she hit the ground.

“Woah, are you okay? That looked like it hurt,” Clint said, jogging up next to her.

“Of course I am, I’ve done it a thousand times,” she bragged.

                Clint glanced at her rifle. Three more tally marks had been added to the side. “Nice shooting,” Clint commented.

“I told you that I never miss,” she said smugly.

“Well, we have no idea where the third warehouse is, so until then, do you want to go and get something to eat? I’m starving.”

“Sure, but no Thai food,” she said.

“No Thai food, got it. We should probably change our clothes. It might attract unwanted attention if we walk into a restaurant looking like this,” Clint said as he motioned to their weapons and leather suits. Natasha laughed and nodded her head. She brushed up against him briefly and ran ahead of him. Clint glanced down at his pant leg, the side pocket had been opened.

“Hey! You took the keys!” He yelled as he chased after her. She put her rifle in the back seat and climbed into the driver’s seat. Clint ran up to the car and put his bow and quiver in the back seat. He opened the passenger’s side door and sat down. “Not fair, filthy pickpocket,” he joked. Natasha shrugged and stepped on the gas, speeding away from the warehouse which had collapsed to the ground.

                They pulled into the factory a few minutes later. Clint walked over to his suit case and pulled out a pair of jeans, a purple t-shirt and a black leather jacket. He walked into the bathroom to shower. The cold water felt good as it pounded against his skin. He washed the grease from his hair, and washed the blood from under his fingernails. He washed the cut on his arm left by the bullet. It was shallow, and he hadn’t noticed it until just then. Clint stepped out of the shower and shook the water from his hair, droplets spattering the broken mirror that was mounted on the wall. He dressed and walked out of the bathroom.

                Natasha had been patiently waiting her turn to shower. She walked into the bathroom with a pile of clothes and shut the door. Clint pulled his boots again and laced them up. He put a knife in the inside pocket of his jacket. He never went anywhere without a weapon. Clint’s phone began to buzz and fell off the table where he had left it. He walked over, picked it up, and answered it.

_“Hey, Barton. Nice work with those two warehouses,” the voice said. There was the faint sound of rock music in the background._

“Umm, may I ask who is calling?” Clint inquired.

_“Oh right. It’s Tony Stark. I thought that I might call you to tell you that the third warehouse is just outside of Kiskunlacházi Repülőtér Airport. I had Jarvis run a scan of the area and places where my weapons could be kept that are near a warehouse or storage unit big enough to hold all of them. There was one by the airport and it’s the perfect candidate,” Tony said._

“Thanks, I guess. I’m sure I could have found it on my own. Who’s Jarvis?” Clint asked.

_“Jarvis is an AI. I developed him myself. He runs the house. Now get to work, Legolas,” Tony said as he hung up the phone._

                Clint stared at the wall for a second. _“How did Stark get my number?” He thought._ He shook his head and opened up the laptop that was sitting on the table. He got pulled up a map of Budapest’s places of interest, and found the airport. He turned his head as he heard the bathroom door open. Natasha walked out of the bathroom wearing a red shirt, brown leather jacket, and dark blue jeans. She walked over to her cot and pulled out a pistol. She clipped it inside of her jacket and put a knife in her boot.

“Ready to go?” Clint asked, closing the laptop.

“Yeah. Hey, Clint, who was that on the phone? I heard you talking to someone, but I couldn’t hear what you were saying,” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“That was Tony Stark. I have no idea how that bastard even got my number. He told me where the last warehouse is. We can check it out tomorrow,” Clint replied.

“How convenient,” Natasha said. She walked over to the rack where the keys were hanging and tossed them to Clint. “Your turn to drive,” she offered.

                Clint caught the keys and walked over to the car. He opened Natasha’s door for her and walked around his side to get in. He stuck the keys in the ignition and they drove towards the heart of the city.

                In the distance there was a large plume of thick, black smoke. As they grew nearer, it became apparent that the smoke was coming from an apartment building. There were firefighters everywhere and a crowd of people watching with horror and shock on their faces.

“Pull over,” Natasha demanded.

“What? Why?” Clint asked, confused.

“The fire. I said pull over the damn car,” she said, grabbing the steering wheel and turning the wheel sharply to the side. Clint slammed on the breaks and the car came to a screeching halt outside of the burning building.

“Tasha! What the hell are you doing?” He said as she pulled her gun out and tossed in the seat and proceeded to get out of the car.

“I’m going to see if I can help,” she said, slamming the door.

                Clint took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car and chased after her.

“My daughters! They’re still in there!” A woman holding a new born baby yelled. Tears were streaming down her face and three of the firefighters were restraining her.

“We’re sorry, ma’am. It’s too dangerous. It’s too late. I’m so sorry,” the chief told her.

“Where?” Natasha interjected.

“She’s on the second floor, apartment 2B, in the room at the end of the hall,” the woman said quickly.

                Natasha turned around and ran into the building, covering her face with the end of her sleeve.

“Nat, wait!” Clint yelled, running after her. One of the firefighters grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop him, and Clint punched him in the face. Clint rushed into the building and caught up to Natasha.

“Get out of here, Clint!” She said, her sleeve muffling the sound of her voice.

“I’m not going to let you do this alone!” He yelled back, angry and scared.

                They ran up the stairs of the building. Flames from the inferno licked at their feet. Clint remembered her story about setting the hospital ablaze and realized why she was doing this. The smoke was suffocating. They found their way to apartment 2B. Natasha grabbed the doorknob and quickly pulled her hand away.

“Shit, that’s hot,” she said, coughing and holding her burned hand.

                Clint shot her a glance and sighed. He walked up the door and kicked it as hard as he could. The door splintered and swung open. Clint and Natasha ran to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Clint kicked open the door and on the floor, unconscious, were two little girls. He put his finger at the base of their necks and checked for a pulse.

“They’re alive,” Clint said with a sigh of relief. “We have to get out of here. The whole building is going to come down on top of us,” he said, voice raspy and dry.

                Natasha reached down and picked up the smaller of the two girls and headed towards the door. Clint picked up the other and followed her out. They raced towards the door to the apartment. Clint was beginning to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen. Clint followed Natasha as they raced down the stairs. Clint looked up and saw one of the support beams crack, he sprinted forward and grabbed Natasha around the waist, pulling her back with his free hand. The beam crashed down just inches in front of her. She turned and looked at him. She blinked a thanks before jumping over the beam at its lowest point. Clint followed suit.

                They emerged from the building, covered in ash and soot. Natasha and Clint handed the girls to the paramedics, and gratefully accepted a pair of oxygen masks.

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that right?” Clint said between breaths.

“You’re the one that followed me into a burning building,” she replied.

                She had him there. He followed a woman that he had not even met a week ago into an inferno that could have killed them both. They looked up to see the woman whose kids they pulled from the building running over to them.

“Thank you both so much. You’re heroes. You saved my girls,” she said, tears of joy streaming down her face.

                Natasha was at a loss for words. She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to come up with a good response.

“Don’t mention it. We’re happy to help,” Clint said.

“One of my daughters woke up, and she wants to meet you both before she goes to the hospital,” she said.

“Oh…uhh…that’s fine, I guess,” Clint said. He nodded at one of the EMTs. The EMT wheeled over the girl on a stretcher. Clint guessed that she was only eight or nine years old. She had dark, black hair and brown eyes. In her arms was a light blue teddy bear.

“My name is Amira. Thank you for saving my sister and me,” she said, coughing, voice weak. “I want you to have this,” she said, holding out her bear to Natasha, who slowly reached out and took it, holding it to her chest. “It’s my favorite, and since you saved me, I decided that you should have it.”

“Thanks,” Natasha managed to say. Her eyes filled with tears as the mother walked away with her daughter.

                Clint looked over at Natasha. Her hair was a mess and tears were streaming down her face. “Tasha, are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just that, I’ve never been called a hero before,” she choked out. She reached out and wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck and gave him a hug, the little blue bear still in her hand. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” She pulled back and hopped off the bed of the fire truck. “We should get going before someone shows up to take our pictures.”

                Clint hopped down after her and started after her. He dusted himself off as he walked after her. “Can we still go get some food?” He asked.

“Yes, please,” she said.

                They got into the car and drove off. 


End file.
